A Tale of Two Entries

Surprise!  February 26 was Palm Sunday at Salem!  Pastor Suzanne is encouraging us to take a leisurely journey through Lent - or should I say pensive, thoughtful, reflective instead of leisurely?  We will be looking at one day from the final week of Jesus in each weekly sermon leading up to Easter.  I was a little dubious when I heard the plan, but on further consideration her point is well taken.  The week between Palm Sunday and Easter is so jam-packed with activity that it really is difficult to comprehend just about anything.  And I'm not talking about church activities - spring break, mid-terms, baseball season, yard clean up, garden planting, spring cleaning - there is just a lot to claim our attention.  So on the first Sunday of Lent we focused on the first day of Holy Week - Palm Sunday.  Complete with palm fronds!

Philippians 2:1-13 and Mark 11:1-11 create a good image of Jesus entry into Jerusalem.  It's something that I have heard before, but confess I never really understood the historical setting. The feast of Passover in Jerusalem was a sacred pilgrimage for many, swelling the city from 40,000 inhabitants to around 200,000, severely taxing the infrastructure.  All the crowds, heat, dust, and emotion of the festival made for a potentially explosive environment.  To ensure peace, especially if it had to be imposed, the Roman governors were usually present for the Jewish festivals.  And how better to intimidate the overwhelming crowds into lawfulness that with a royal entry, complete with all the regalia they could imagine.  With His entry into Jerusalem Jesus fulfills the scriptural prophecies and provides a foundation for everything that will follow during the week by pointing out the contrast between the kingdom of Rome and the kingdom of Caesar.  Consider:

Pilate rode in a magnificent chariot or on an imposing war horse.
Jesus humbly mounted a young, borrowed donkey.

Pilate was attended by soldiers, an entire army.
Jesus was attended by a handful of fishermen.

Pilate had a strategically planned, imposing procession for his parade.
Jesus came with the disciples and the townspeople, an ad hoc parade.

The sounds of Pilate's parade were feet marching, horse hooves, chariot wheels, leather squeaking, drums.
The sounds of Jesus parade were were the voices of the people.

The army came equipped with full weaponry.
The people came equipped with full hearts.

The onlookers at Pilate's parade were silent, sullen and deeply resentful of Roman control and taxation.
The onlookers at Jesus' parade waved palm fronds and laid down their cloaks for Him.

Pilate entered from the west.
Jesus entered from the east.

Caesar, in Rome, is the son of God.
Jesus, among the people, is the son of God.

The people are ready to rally behind Jesus and defeat Pilate and Rome.
The people are ready to rally behind Jesus and defeat Pilate and Rome.

Wow!  Clearly Jerusalem at Passover is a city full of dynamite just waiting for the flame to ignite it.  The people of Jerusalem are ready to lay down their lives and fight in opposition to the Romans.  They think Jesus is the flame they need, bringing a mighty power, like Moses.  They have formed these images and expectations of Jesus, they want revolution, they want the battle.  They are ready for some smiting!

But Jesus came with a different kind of power.  Jesus demanded a complete change of attitude toward life.  Enemies should be loved, not hated.  True sacrifice is giving of yourself and time, not making occasional offerings.  The Law, the thing that has kept the Jews in relationship with God, needs to be restructured.  Now the most important thing is loving God and your neighbors - even if your neighbors are the Romans!  No wonder they turned on Him.  Consider:

In the existing world view control and prosperity require human domination.
In Jesus' world view control and prosperity require love.

So, as much as I condemn the Jews for turning on Jesus, I have to be careful and be honest about my own expectations.  It is easy to incorporate Jesus into my world view in ways that are comfortable and mesh with what I want to believe and do.  Jesus calls me to embrace servant-hood, sacrifice, love.  The crowds in Jerusalem were not able to see how God could possibly be at work in that situation, in humility and submission to Rome.  I find it difficult to see how God can possibly be at work in the struggles that family, friends and even strangers face.  How is God at work when you feel your body betraying you, crumbling around you?  In the same way the Jews in Jerusalem did, I place limits on God and my relationship with God with my expectations.  Consider:

We want Jesus to join in our parade.

Jesus calls us to join in his parade.

Thin Places

The title of the sermon this week - Thin Places - refers to times and places when the membrane that separates us from God is so thin that we can feel the presence.  The point where humans meet God with Jesus acting as the contact point.  The scripture referred us to the Transfiguration, when Jesus is revealed as the son of God to Peter, James and John.  (Mark 9:2-9), and also Elijah being "taken" from Elisha (2 Kings 2:1-12).

I wondered, what exactly does transfiguration mean?  According to a couple of online dictionaries it is a marked change in form or appearance; an exalting, glorifying or spiritual change.  That change began with Jesus' baptism by his cousin John, with the voice of God coming from heaven, saying, "You are my Son, whom I love; with you I am well pleased.” (Mark 1:11)  I don't think any of the gospels say anything about where the disciples were at that moment, so I guess the revelation in Mark 9:7, “This is my Son, whom I love. Listen to him!” is necessary.  But is it really news to them?

This mountaintop experience must have cemented things for Peter, James and John.  But, as I think about it, I am left with more and more questions.  Like why were only three of the disciples asked to go along?  Why those three?  Why were they also the only ones to go with him when he raised the daughter of Jairus?   Why did the revelation have to happen on a mountaintop?  Was it really necessary after having been with Jesus all that time and seeing him work miracles?  And why did Jesus forbid them from talking about it until after his death?


Maybe all of my why's and attempts to "understand" the experience of the apostles is a way to avoid the real question - what does it mean to me?  It's all good and well to do research, participate in scholarly debate, look for hidden signs, but the rubber hits the road when I figure out what the message is for me.  I have spent several days working on that.  My understanding today is that not everybody gets to have a "mountaintop" experience.  You don't have to have that kind of experience in order to be in relationship with God.  The love is still there when they come down the mountain, when they go to Gethsemane, when Jesus is betrayed.  And the love is there even when I have more questions than answers.

How Far Would You Be Willing To Go?

That is the $64,000 question.  Depends on what for, right?  But this week, the question doesn't really have to do with what you would actually be willing to do.  The message focused on the power of healing in Mark 1:40-45 when Jesus heals the leper who believes, and II Kings 5:1-14 when Naaman is healed by Elisha.  In Mark the leper's simple faith - "If you are willing , you can make me clean." -  evokes Jesus' compassion.  The leper is healed despite the fact that he then disregards the instructions Christ gives him.  In the story of Naaman it would appear that his willingness to listen to his wife's servant and go in search of healing is the "appropriate" demonstration of faith.

Expecting a huge, miraculous cure Naaman goes to his king, gets lots of silver, gold, clothing and a letter of introduction to the king of Israel.  When he arrives in Israel, the king of Israel perceives the request, one that he knows he cannot fulfill, as a threat, a trick. They have all been working a human system from a human perspective.  They know what they expect and are acting accordingly.  Naaman expects to receive the tremendous gift of healing.  He and his king offer up displays of riches and power that they hope will be sufficient to compensate God, complete the deal, make them worthy of receiving the gift of healing.  The king of Israel cannot comprehend any reason the king of Aram would make an impossible request of him, other than to provoke a war.  Their expectations not only place limits on the ways in which others act, but also limit how they are able to react.


Elisha hears what is happening and sends word to the king to send Naaman to him.  But when Naaman gets to Elisha's home, he is given instructions by a messenger.  What?!  Not the prophet?!  (Can you feel the rising indignation?)  And what are the instructions?  To wash seven times in a dirty, muddy river that is really little more than a stream when there are huge, glorious, beautiful, clean rivers in his homeland?  Are you serious?!


When Naaman is just about to return home, angry, offended and disappointed, one of his servants asks Naaman, if the prophet had asked you to do something difficult, wouldn't you do it?  Then why not try this?  It's not difficult, you have nothing to lose.  Naaman knows what he has to lose - he will be revealed as vulnerable, diseased, imperfect, taking a big hit to his pride, power and standing in the eyes of others.  And how on earth could he possibly be healed by such a simple act?  Yet, when he does as instructed he is healed by that simple act.


Naaman and the kings had pigeonholed God.  They expected God to act in the only way they could comprehend - big, overwhelming, ostentatious, frightening, awe-inspiring.  In actuality the work of God comes through the quiet, unnamed, humble servant-slave girl, the prophet's messenger, Naaman's own servant who encourages him to wash in the Jordan.  These people show compassion in a simple, humble, unassuming way that those with power do not comprehend.  The servants know that God acts in small and mysterious ways, just as the leper who presented himself to Jesus did.  

In I Kings 19:11-13 God shows Elijah that God does not have to be in the earthquake or the storm, but can come in a quiet whisper.   How far would you be willing to go is not about taking the most difficult road, doing the heroic thing.  It is about letting go of pride and preconceived notions, being open to seeing God as strongly in the whispers that pass by on the mountain as in the burning bushes of life. Expect the unexpected.

From Where I Stand

Our student pastor gave the message this week and did a great job  She started out giving the children a lesson in perspective by asking them to go - actually giving them permission to run - to any place in the sanctuary where they do not normally sit.  They got to see that it looks different, depending on where they are.


The scripture from Isaiah 40:21-31 is the reminder for Israel that God is in charge, even though they complain and doubt.  The entire community is in an identity crisis, in exile.  For Israel God is in the temple and the land, so they can easily believe that God is dead or weaker than the other "gods."  They are praying and not getting the answer they want, probably biblical smiting of their enemies and return to their home.  Isaiah reminds them that God is in charge, even in this difficult time, and with the community.

A parallel was drawn with the movie "Soul Surfer."  Based on the true story of Bethany Hamilton, the movie details the story of a championship surfer who loses her arm in a shark attack.  She does the hard work to return to the sport she loves but places last in her first competition back.  As you can imagine, she suffers an identity crisis, questioning why this should happen to her, who is she if she can't surf any more, is it part of God's plan that bad things should happen?


The answer she gets is very similar to the one Israel got from Isaiah - we don't know why bad things happen, but we do know that God is in the business of bringing good out of the bad things that do happen.  In the movie Bethany goes on a mission trip, helps a child who faces devastation greater than anything she ever imagined, and comprehends that there is more in this world than just her problems.

Who among us hasn't felt consumed by our own problems?   There are times when we feel lonely, abandoned, a stranger in strange land.  But how often is our own behavior off-putting, stand-offish, refusing to adapt to new environment, praying for relief but feeling angry and cheated when the answer isn't the one we want?  It's a little like the seagulls in "Finding Nemo."  They travel in a flock but are not a community, out for only themselves, constantly sniping and crying mine-mine-mine.


Bethany and Israel learned to look outside themselves - to get a different perspective and consider things from a communal point of view.  Bethany needed to be in a community, to interact with and love others in order to stand inside herself and look out.  Time to examine my point of view...

New Beginnings Whenever You Are Ready

I admit it.  I have been procrastinating  Last week everything came together in a nice, neat package for me.  This week not so much.  These lyrics say it a little better:

"Where have you gone inspiration?
Where did you hide the tunes?
I've lost my imagination.
Since you've been gone there's no muse."

This isn't the first time I've felt that way, nor will it be the last.  It's is a common feeling.  So if it is a normal, human emotion, how do we keep moving forward?  What is it that allows me to sit here and stare down my computer screen?

Based on the sermon this week, faith.  From Hebrews 11:1   

"Now faith is confidence in what we hope for and assurance about what we do not see" (NIV)

I have been thinking about that.  What is it that I hope for, and what do I not see for which I need assurance?  In this case I hope that I will have something meaningful to say and the assurance I need is that if I throw something out there it will be received somewhere, sometime, by someone.  The pastor broke it down pretty well for the kids this week.   Think about a remote control, calculator, cell phone.  We hope it will work, have faith it will work even if we don't see (or understand) all the things that go into making it work.  Paul talked about this kind of persistence in Philippians 3:12-14

" ¹² Not that I have already obtained all this, or have already arrived at my goal, but I press on to take hold of that for which Christ Jesus took hold of me. ¹³ Brothers and sisters, I do not consider myself yet to have taken hold of it. But one thing I do: Forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead, ¹⁴ I press on toward the goal to win the prize for which God has called me heavenward in Christ Jesus." (NIV)

New beginnings - in faith or in life - often come after a very dark or difficult time.  It seems like we need to experience some form of destruction or catastrophe in order to be released from the past, live in  the present, and move forward.  Paul certainly had an experience like that.  The fact that we can have those kinds of experiences over and over carries with it the implicit understanding that if we fail on the first, or second, or third, or fiftieth attempt the door doesn't close.  The journey continues because it is a journey and not a destination.  And we don't have to wait for the New Year or January.  We can start over, change the course of our journey any time.  Whenever you are ready.